


Mirror, Mirror

by Wolferyn



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolferyn/pseuds/Wolferyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She recognizes the soft sounds coming from Melissa’s room and she knows that she should walk away, pretend she can’t hear them and lock herself in her own room and focus on the stack of work mounting up at the side of her bed. She should. (But she doesn’t).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

She recognizes the soft sounds coming from Melissa’s room and she knows that she should walk away, pretend she can’t hear them and lock herself in her own room and focus on the stack of work mounting up at the side of her bed. She should. (But she doesn’t).

 

There’s a feeling swirling inside her that is both equal parts intrigued and disgusted as she edges closer to the door, positioning herself so that she didn’t block the light that crept in through the open crack of Melissa’s door. She almost laughed, whether it was to settle her own discomfort or that she actually found it amusing, that Melissa; loud and almost obnoxious, never shut up always make her presence known Melissa, was almost as quiet as Spencer herself. She couldn’t see Melissa, the bed was behind the door, but she had been in enough changing rooms and the like that she could draw in her mind a likeness to Melissa that was in nothing but her underwear.

 

She should be repulsed. (She isn’t.)

 

Instead she finds her breathing start to come in short shallow breaths and she’s scared that maybe Melissa can hear them but instead of striking fear into her heart it only encourages Spencer, and she slips quietly down the wall, her fingers digging into the carpet, twisting the strands and keeping her tied to whatever reality she was currently in.  There’s a creak from the bed, shifting and she hears something being pulled down the bed and she screws her eyes shut like it would help her see through the walls. When she hears the soft rattle of something rhythmically bumping the metal frame of the bed her eyes roll backwards and she almost lets out a whimper.

 

In her mind she can see Melissa, on her front and griping the headboard, knuckles white from the force she’s exerting, the pillow nestled between her legs. At first Melissa would grind her hips down and into the mattress, a little something to push her a little closer to the edge but not enough for her to feel anything more than a ravenous want in the pit of her stomach. She would let out shaking breathes, maybe even a whimper, as her nipples dragged across the sheets, still rough and rigid even though they’ve been washed countless times. Melissa would be fighting an internal battle with herself, Spencer knows, between ignoring the feeling or caressing them with her own hands, soft and silky, a much needed contrast.

 

Spencer chews on her lip at the thought and tests the door gently. It moves a fraction before meeting some resistance and Spencer thinks she’s caught. Melissa’s breath stop momentarily, a quiet whine lost somewhere in the back of her throat but then her movements begin again, quicker and more hurried than before and Spencer almost sighs in relief.

 

She knows Melissa’s done with the teasing by now, probably feeling a mixture of boredom and frustration, and that now she’s pressed as close as she can to the mattress while still able to move, rolling her hips and desperately seeking as much contact as she can.

 

(Spencer wonders if Melissa likes to push the corner of the pillow against her clit like she has done so many times on her own. She realizes, as her fingers dip below the waistline of her shorts and stroke lightly against her panties, that she doesn’t even care.)

 

Spencer knows that her sister would lose any and all rhythm she had once, leg muscles contracting as she thrashed around trying to get the contact she desperately needed, the contact that she knew she couldn’t get from a pillow alone. How Melissa would cave and let go of the headboard and a hand would find itself underneath her body, fingers teasing at her entrance. (She wonders if she’s just projecting herself onto her sister but the thought replaced in her mind by the memory of her sisters hand and how it looked when she was showing off her engagement ring and how she compared her hands to her own that night and wished that her fingers were a little longer like Melissa’s so they might reach _that_ spot.)

 

There’s a sharp intake of breath (from herself or Melissa, Spencer isn’t sure) and then the house falls eerily quiet. Spencer slips two fingers into herself as Melissa whispers a shaky “fuck” and presumably does the same.

 

It’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. But still she finds her fingers sinking deeper with each thrust, growing more frantic each time Melissa let out the shaking breaths she had kept in her chest. Spencer pushes against the door a little more, opening it just enough to catch a glimpse in the full length mirror.

 

She has a maddening thought then, as she catches a glance of Melissa’s fingers sinking into herself and her ass in the air, that maybe she should just appear at the foot of the bed and, and what she doesn’t know exactly yet, torn between leaving kisses down her sisters back and letting herself taste Melissa over and over again until her sister is delirious and begging for Spencer to let her come. She would like that, she thinks as her mouth falls open a little bit more as Melissa slips in a third finger, Spencer would like that a lot.

 

Rising to her knees, Spencer braces herself against the doorframe and kicks off her shorts and panties, painfully aware that she is in the middle of the hallway and anyone could walk past at any moment but at this angle her fingers are magic and she soon stops caring. She’s trembling now, fear or euphoria or adrenaline or all three, she doesn’t care and she has to bite down on her lip to stop the pitiful wail that tries to escape as she watches Melissa’s movements become more rushed and broken. It hits her then that, if her sister turned over and caught the mirror, she would be seen. It sends another broken shudder through her and she tries to formulate an excuse to why she would be knuckle deep inside herself outside Spencer’s room. She doesn’t come up with one which makes the cracked and hushed call of her name cause her body to freeze.

 

She expects to meet Melissa’s eyes meet her own in the mirror but they don’t. With a few more frenzied thrusts, her head falls back against the wall and her head is swimming with colours and patterns she couldn’t dream up if she even tried. When she is sure she can move again, Spencer pushes herself up on unsteady legs and heads for her room picking up her discarded bottoms on the way. She’s just in time to watch Melissa come, thrashing around and harsh breaths escaping her lips as she bites down on her comforter and Spencer feels her mouth twist into a smirk at the sight.

 

She lies awake in bed for another hour until her hands wander beneath her sheets, eyes snapping up to her door which is firmly closed. With a sigh of relief, she finds her folds already wet, one finger and then a second one not long after. She swears she hears Melissa tell her to add a third finger in that silky sweet voice of hers that she puts on for all the boys. (She does).

 


End file.
